


As It Came to Be

by UnfinishedProject



Series: Hot Nights in a Cold Castle [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Injury, Open Relationships, POV Third Person Limited, Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 20:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/UnfinishedProject
Summary: The story of an Aen Elle who fled her homeworld and found unexpected shelter in the stronghold of witchers. As conditions are set for an extended stay, other means are necessary to make the deserted castle her new home; a feat that seems impossible to achieve without support.The first part focuses on a fresh start and settling down; the difficulties to overcome and introduction to those that may aid her; or fail the promises she made.





	As It Came to Be

The never-ending war left the once blooming field a charred wasteland. Black as far eyes could see except for the golden glimmer of a portal. There wasn't a soul in sight; no one to prevent her crossing into the unknown. And no one to tell where it led. There wasn't much of a decision to make; stay and die or hope for a peaceful world.  
She crossed the plain unhurried, though not by choice. The gash on her side still leaked blood; scarlet taking over the fabric with each step. Faltering mere feet away from the portal, she took a moment to steady herself. A last glance at the world she called home before and she was gone.  
Vivid greens and murky browns greeted her, noises of wildlife ringing out around her; a forest. Weak and dazed, she only allowed herself a moment of rest; pushing off from the trunk of a tree. She was aware of one thing only; if she stays, she never survives. The leaves rustled under her feet, her breathing louder only.  
Newfound energy coursed through her veins; white walls rising above the canopies. A castle or stronghold of some sort; she could only hope to find inhabitants willing to help. The strained march uphill wasn't in her favour; her breathing shallow and rapid. The pale stones weren't far but the terrain, upturned roots and low hanging branches, set her a speed even slower than she would be capable of. Fear rose in her as her steps didn't seem to carry her forward; her insides twisting into a knot sturdier than the ones on the trees. She didn't escape to die alone and abandoned; to be forgotten as her body united with the forest floor.  
The woods cleared, giving way for a last obstacle; a narrow bridge with nothing to save her from stumbling into the gorge below. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, breath seething through clenched teeth; a couple meters and she would be safe, she told herself. Fresh dots of blood marked her path through the bridge, the pressure of her palm gone in favour of holding herself up on her knees. The relieved sigh felt like her last breath, the plea for help mute on her lips; the sound of her fist hitting against the closed door not more audible.

* * *

Her eyes blinked open, the world dim around her; only a handful of candles providing light. Cold and exhaustion, those were the only thing she knew. The pain was gone; gone until she tried to sit, falling back onto the hard mattress. A headache tortured her, adding to her misery; a sharp hiss of breath leaving her lips. Her fingers felt out her wound; fresh bandages draped across her body, the work of an expert. She heard the scuffle of feet before her gaze met a pair of golden eyes; the rest of their features shrouded in the darkness.  
"You need to rest, my child." The voice belonged to someone old; the light of candles dancing on silver locks. Her gaze followed up the arm, his hand resting on her shoulder with reassurance. A friendly face, wrinkled by age and wisdom, unveiled from the darkness; his expression gentle but not telling much of emotions.  
"Where...?" Her mind was hazy, most memories blurred from the pain and exhaustion. She remembered the battle and how she fled from the scene; through a portal that could have lead to her demise. She could only assume a resident found her shortly after her arrival and she was given medical care; how long ago, she didn't know, she retained no semblance to the passage of time.  
"Kaer Morhen, the stronghold of-"  
"Of witchers." Her teachings filtered through the fog, the effects of whatever medication she was given dispensing over time. The bits of information she knew and the bits she gathered with observation added up to the unmistakable claim; no other men had eyes golden like that. Once her own declaration settled in her mind, she became unsure if this was safety or similar to what she fled; if the latter, she wished they'd just let her die, it didn't seem bad or painful in that moment.  
"As you say, my child. We've done more than our duty. Once you've regained strength, you will have to leave." She would understand even without the knowledge about witchers and their path of neutrality; she was a risk that could drag any community into an unwanted war. Her only reply was a faint nod, spiraling back into a fevered dream; she had a few days at best.

* * *

As days passed, she gained more freedom; not to explore, only to stay awake longer. Their medications helped and she was healing at a faster rate than she would with human treatment; in exchange it had a toll on her. It wasn't until the last day of her allowed stay that she dared to wander; the stronghold deserted save for her and Vesemir. The silence was almost eerie, broken only by her steps against the floor; taking a moment to settle her nerves upon escaping to the courtyard.  
She wasn't surprised to find it empty like the rest of the building; even if their numbers were few, monsters had to be slain. There was a slim chance to meet any, the winter that would bring them back was a long way away. Although it was a benefit, even if her curiosity held a feeble hope that it was otherwise; she could explore, or escape, to her liking. She headed over the wooden structures, her finger grazing along a beam; the training equipment fixed in place, the only way she had a real chance to clear the obstacle if she were to try. But she left it behind, never a fighter, not in that sense.  
Seeing enough, she returned to the tower, following another route; it led her through the dining hall. A mess with splashes of wine dried onto the stones or the knife that was stuck into the table for who knows how long; but maybe the key to her lengthened welcome. She only hoped that she took the right turns and scaled the right stairs to reach the library; Vesemir told her to find him there.  
"There's a portal not far in the forest." The unknown voice stopped her outside; it was sort of raspy and carrying an aversion to the mentioned object. It wasn't right to eavesdrop, a betrayal to her host but her curiosity froze her into place.  
"I know about it." Vesemir's voice was calm, the same when he spoke to her; but the sombre tone was amiss, this wasn't about a case they had no avenue to act on. She was certain a week passed since her arrival even if she wasn't always aware of the course of time; a morsel of relief that no one came looking for her or to wage more war.  
"We need to close it. Something might come through." He was right, she supported his idea; her alone could be a risk to this world, there was no need for more entities to wreck havoc in a world that's riddled with it's own dangers.  
"Something already did."  
"We have to kill it. It can be dangerous." Her hand was slow to clamp over her lips and the gasp, albeit quiet, was audible if someone was near enough; or possessed the enhanced senses of witchers. She staggered a few steps back but the next words halted her fleeing.  
"It's a girl, Geralt. Right by the doors." It was late to get away, the only way was forward. She held her head high, hoping to endure the humiliating nature of the predicament with her pride intact; difficult when her cheeks heated up like a child caught misbehaving. To Vesemir, whose hand now rested on her shoulder, maybe she was just that; a child unaware of the workings of this world and that of the witchers within it.  
Her gaze settled on the stranger; Geralt as the older addressed him. The silver locks and the creases across his skin made her doubt the assumption about their ages for a moment; but recalling the conversation she wasn't meant to hear, it became apparent that which one was the younger. The scars running across his face ruined what once might've been a handsome face; although it wasn't enough to turn him repulsive. Intimidating he certainly was, his height and the frown only reinforcing the notion; yet she found herself crossing the room to introduce herself.

* * *

That meeting and her proposal for being a help instead of a nuisance brought forth a sea of discussion and a few arguments; but the scale tipped in her favour in the end. She was still an outsider, they weren't quite trustful of her but it was more than enough; she had a home from where she no longer needed or wanted to flee.


End file.
